


I am Harry Potter

by The_Bastard_Writer



Series: Epilogue Raw [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, BAMF Harry Potter, Corruption, Dark, F/M, Gritty, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-War, Unspeakable Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bastard_Writer/pseuds/The_Bastard_Writer
Summary: "After the war the more spineless of the pureblood families quickly developed stories of their war time heroism. Hiding muggle borns from Voldemort and spying for the order, all lies most of it but it worked. They saved their necks and kept their arse’s out of Azkaban. Then like the Slytherin snakes that they are they voted themselves into the new government." - Junior Unspeakable Hermione Granger
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Series: Epilogue Raw [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100093
Comments: 14
Kudos: 36





	1. The Muggle Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place roughly ten years before "The Good Night" in the same HP Universe.  
> Comments and Questions are all welcome, Much Love, follow on IG @the_bastard_writer for updates and new stories

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER OR ITS CHARACTERS, THIS IS ALL FOR LOVE NOT PROFIT

She looked down into the muggle trash bin and felt the urge once more. Her lunch and merlin knows what else pooling at the bottom mixing in with hamburger wrappers and other muggle waste. 

It looked bad and she knew it, but she never did have time to care about looks.

Feeling the eyes on her she silently wished she were somewhere else. Teaching maybe, but of course that would make her situation only more scandalous. 

“Hermione”

Her partner Neville called out to her, still timid as ever. 

In the years since Hogwarts he found his confidence but after six months of being her partner he seems to have lost it once again. At least when he is around her anyway. 

According to her husband she had the unique ability to grind a man down to nothing.

The last time they spoke, well he yelled and she spoke. He made sure to remind her for the unteenth time of her skills in emotional castration.

She remembered him walking to her in a threatening fashion, she warned him if he took another step she would add a physical dimension and make his emasculation complete. 

That was over a year ago and his absence from the crime scene was the only bright spot of an otherwise shitty situation. 

Wiping her mouth and pulling her head out of the bin she turned to her nervous partner.

“Aright get on with it,”

Her status as technically a junior unspeakable, never stopped her from taking command.

“Right, well, uh, let's start here then”

She followed Neville into a building that at one point must have been a muggle shop. Shoes maybe, or perhaps clothes. 

Hermione couldn’t tell but she knew it was all a distraction. 

Tuning Neville’s still quivering voice out, she focused on the scene before her eyes.

Blood, so much blood she could almost feel his rage.

Rapers and murders, at least they used to be until he got to them. In the five years since the fall of Voldemort, this new generation of dark wizards had lost all civility. His relentless hunting of them only made them worse, more desperate and less humane if such a thing were possible. 

She wondered if her husband tried to stop him, but these days he was spending most of his time half in a bottle so she doubted it. 

“As you can see here, Auror Potter fired a level four blasting curse or hex which entered suspect 07 in the right shoulder blade, if you look to the corner you can still see parts of the right arm and if you take a second and look up the ceiling you will,”

Neville’s diagnosis was interrupted by a rather large drop of blood dripping from the ceiling and entering his mouth mid sentence. 

Watching her partner start to cough and spit, her mind drifted again. Neville was good but he wasn’t that good.

The bits of arm in the corner really belonged to suspect 11, all that was left of suspect 7 had just dripped off the ceiling and into her partner’s mouth. 

Hermione didn’t need to go through this crime scene analysis or whatever name the paper pushers at the ministry had chosen to call this little charade. She knew exactly what happened the moment she passed through the still crumbling entrance.

Harry had come in alone, leaving her husband outside his flask still in hand. She noticed the discarded cigarette bud outside where Harry dropped it before reaching for his wand. 

Before that, before the vomit, she saw the stains from where husband had lost hold of his flask, probably startled by Harry’s onslaught inside. 

The smell of Laddegans Fire Whiskey, a favorite of the Weasley men, had entered her nostrils the moment she apparated in.

She hated that smell, it reminded her of red hair and bullshit. No surprise she vomited. That and her condition. 

She shuddered at the thought and quickly tried to focus again on work.

After applying several cleaning charms, Neville was back at it. 

“I conclude that there were as no fewer than seventeen suspects occupying this muggle shop, they applied extension charms to increase shops size, auror Potter” 

“For Merlin’s sake Neville, you can call him Harry, you’ve known the man for ten years,”

Hermione knew she shouldn’t snap at her partner but he tended to annoy her from time to time.

“Right, so Harry somehow was able to negate their charm which caused the extended space to collapse in on itself killing no fewer than six suspects instantly, that is the cause of all the uh blood.”

Neville was going to continue when several cracks interrupted him.

“What in the bloody fuck has happened,”

The angered yell came from the minister of magic himself, Alfred Stimpleton. 

“Granger, Longbottom now”

Minster Stimpleton demanded an explanation immediately. 

“Yes minister well uh,”

Neville was never allowed to finish.

“Not you Longbottom, I want a proper answer,” 

The Minister's eyes narrowed as he looked at Hermione. 

Hermione went over the scene and watched as Minster Stimpleton grew increasingly angry. It was hard to sugar coat the truth, Harry came in, challenged every dark wizard to a duel then brutally killed them all. 

The only thing she didn’t have a problem telling the Minster was about her husband's incompetence and the growing problem of his drinking on duty. 

“Enough, a wife should mind her husband”

Hearing his words, Hermione paused for a second, she bit her lip and secretly her tongue. 

The son of a bitch, Hermione hated the Minster and his medieval thinking. Even now as she gave him an expert analysis of the night’s events she could practically hear his thoughts. Mudblood, she imagined the word was always in his mind when he spoke to her. 

After the war the more spineless of the pureblood families quickly developed stories of their war time heroism. Hiding muggle borns from Voldemort and spying for the order, all lies most of it but it worked. They saved their necks and kept their arse’s out of Azkaban. Then like the Slytherin snakes that they are they voted themselves into the new government .

That’s how Stimpleton became Minister and the leader of this new wave of dark wizardry became head of magical law enforcement.

Draco weasel fuck Malfoy.

Hermione hated cursing and using ridiculous derogatory nicknames but the blonde haired weasel fuck deserved it. He did just that, weaseling his way to the top alleging the victory over Voldemort was all due to him being master of the elder wand and other tripe. 

That was why she never blamed Harry for his anger, he fought so hard, nearly lost everything, even died, just to watch the new world be swallowed up by the scoundrels of the old. 

“So does Potter want to die or merely to become unemployed”

Minster Simpleton's arrogant nasally voice brought Hermione back to reality. She had finished her explanation and now had been doing her best to tune out the Minister's response. 

“Auror Potter was out numbered sir, he was just,”

Bad move Neville, she thought, she really did appreciate Neville for staying loyal to Harry and not turning his back on him like so many of their former classmates, but the Minister had no patience for him.

“Really Longbottom then perhaps I arrange your transfer and you can join him, of course then it might be bits and pieces of you I’d be stepping in next time.”

The Minister's words shut Neville up quickly and he looked nervously to Hermione for rescue. 

“What unspeakable Longbottom”

“Junior Unspeakable” 

She hated being interrupted.

“Yes, what junior unspeakable Longbottom was trying to say is that auror Potter had been in the process of enforcing a high risk warrant against a large number of known dark wizards, the curse marks on walls A and B show their use of deadly magic against auror Potter which meant his response was well within his mandate as an Auror.”

As she finished her sentence she caught her breath and watched the Minister's nostrils flare in contempt.

“Enough of this, I am done here, Granger later when your done tumbling with Potter tell”

“My personal affairs are none of your or the ministry’s business”

Hermione couldn’t stop herself from interrupting him, her partner looking over at her as if she had just given a dragon the finger. 

“It is Minster, I won’t have someone of your, heritage, disrespecting me or this position”

Mudblood, he didn’t say it but she heard it again.

“Now where was I, when your done partaking in your illicit affair, tell Potter I want him in my office first thing in the morning, I am done with him and his bloody messes,” 

Taking a second to wipe the blood and organ remnants from his shoes, Minster Stimpleton turned and left the scene, his entourage of aurors behind him.


	2. Who am I?

Neville annoyed her but he was a good partner, Hermione thought to herself as she appeared in front of her apartment.

He knew how uncomfortable the minister had made her and offered to finish up at the crime scene so she could head home early.

Despite what most people think, he isn’t stupid, he was the only person to figure out her condition afterall.

Shuttering again, she started up the stairs to her door.

Once inside she felt the warmth from her fireplace and watched the flickering flames illuminate the otherwise dark apartment.

“We aren’t in the forest anymore, there are lights you can turn on”  
Her words broke the silence of the apartment but all she got in response were the meows of her many cats.

“Did you feed them, they are almost as tense as you surely are”  
Again no response.

“Honestly Harry I can see you sitting there,”  
She lied.

“Yes, I fed them, sorry I was just”  
Harry’s sentence ended as if he lost the strength or will to keep speaking.

She hated when he was like this, his mind somewhere else and his demeanor hollow bordering on lifeless. Since the war he was like this more and more.

Walking into her kitchen she helped herself to a pot of tea still sitting on the stove.

“I made tea”  
Harry spoke again, hearing her pull a cup from the cabinet.

“Its cold”  
She immediately regretted her words, her tone came off unintentionally irritated but in her defense she couldn’t help it.

Work was exhausting and too often she took it out on Harry, not that he ever complained.

“Sorry”  
She heard him mutter, amazed how one word can drip with so much sadness.

Hermione wanted to ask him what was wrong but they had that conversation too many times already. She knew what it was even if he would never actually tell her.

Simply put he lacked purpose, he spent most of his life as a soldier on one mission, a mission he thought he completed.

To make matters worse, he survived and he hated himself for it. Harry had expected to die in the war, to sacrifice himself like the lamb he was brought up to be. But that didn’t happen, he won and was now forced to live through a victory he never prepared for.

From the moment Voldemort fell dead at his feet, Harry was lost and years later he had given up trying to find himself.

Immediately after the war he simply drifted through life, unable to chart his own course. All he did was go through the motions, the seemingly endless amount of parades, ceremonies, and commemorations. Even his failed marriage to that redheaded harlot Ginny, all of it he went through like a piece of wreckage set adrift in an unforgiving sea.

Only Hermione could see the truth, that he was drowning, that's why she wasn’t surprised when he left, it broke her heart to let him go but she still loved him enough to be happy for him.

Then he made the mistake of coming back, and she felt guilty for the joy she felt at his return. Coming back had saved her life, but he had only done it to try and find a way to end his.

Even before he left it was clear that the new magical world was going to be just as ugly as the old one. The ultimate slap in the face, to fight so hard to change a world that refused to be more than what it is, too scared or worse unwilling to be what it should be.

After taking up his position with the Auror corp, Harry started his now endless search for the death he cheated during the war, hoping that one day he would go on a mission that would be his last.

He never told her any of this, but Hermione never needed words to know what Harry Potter was feeling or thinking.

She remembered the owl she received telling her she was named the primary beneficiary in his will on the condition she not allow any life saving magic to be performed should he end up at St. Mungos again.  
The fight they had that day put all the ones she had with her husband to shame.

Hermione’s mind returning to the present, she became determined to get his full attention.  
“You have your own home you know, you don’t have to keep coming here”

That got him to finally look at her.

“That place has never been my home, you know that, not since SIrius”  
Again his words dropped off into silence.

Walking into her living room she saw him sitting in what was supposed to be her reading chair, It had long become his, one of their many unspoken agreements.  
Hermione’s eyes traveled up and down his body, noticing that his Auror uniform was miraculously blood and guts free.

“Cleaning charm, I didn’t want to soil your place you know”  
It amazed her how he was always able to read her thoughts

“Quite a mess you made tonight”  
His response was quick and slightly defensive.

“They deserved it”  
She nodded her head and took a seat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

A wave of comfort hit her as he returned her affection, wrapping his own arms around her and kissing her neck softly. Her marriage was never this intimate, nothing was.

“Your going to get yourself killed you know that”  
Hermione didn’t want to say it but she did, she didn’t want to take things there but she couldn't help herself.

Truthfully this closeness terrified her, the thought that one night she would come home to just her cats broke her to pieces even as he held her.

“I know”  
To him that was a safe answer, but to her there were no safe answers.

“You know Harry, really you know”  
She shoved him as she left his lap and nearly ran from the room.

He couldn’t see her cry, she wouldn’t let him, not anymore. After his last extended stay at St, Mungos she refused to let him see anymore of her tears even though it didn’t stop them from coming.

For a moment Harry felt alive again. Jumping to his feet he ran after her, catching her in the hallway leading to her bedroom.

Hermione tried to resist him, she tried to break out of his grasp and leave him in the hallway. Looking at the door she thought about slamming it in his face then twisting the lock.

The moment his lips found hers she knew that wasn’t going to happen.  
Harry broke the kiss and stared at her for a moment.  
“I just, I just don’t know who I am anymore”

His words felt like a confession, but a confession that brought him no sense of relief.

Harry started pleading with her in between each kiss.  
“Who am I?”

Kiss 

“I don’t know”

Kiss

“I just don’t bloody know”

Kiss

“Please tell me”

Kiss

“Tell me who I am Hermione”

Kiss

“Please”

Kiss

“It's been so damn long”

Kiss

“And I don’t fucking know anymore”  
Each time he spoke his words were more shaky than the last till they broke completely into forced whispers.

For a moment Hermione wanted to cry again, tears of sympathy and sorrow but instead she kissed him with a passion that made both their knees unstable.

Breaking her kiss, Hermione spoke softly.  
“Harry”

He paused, looking at her with anticipation.

“I know who you are,” she said.  
His eyes were now begging her for an explanation.

Once more grabbing him by the chin then pulling his face to hers .  
“Don’t die and one day I’ll tell you”

With one more kiss their weakened knees gave out and together they crumbled to the floor.


	3. The Falling Sun

Clothes, some wrinkled others ripped littered the floor leading from the hallway to the bedroom. 

Blankets and sheets were warped and hung half on and half off Hermione’s once marital bed.

Marital bed, Hermione scoffed at the thought, it was never her marital bed, no matter how much it was supposed to be. Her husband's addictions to drink and whores never let it be. But she couldn’t place the blame solely on her husband, the murmurings of her addiction still sleeping next to her; told her the truth, that the idea of a marital bed only existed in her husband's dreams and her nightmares. 

Looking over at Harry’s sleeping form she felt a strange sense of pride. The lion of Gryffindor, the savior of the magical world, a man doomed to a restless existence. And she put him to bed, a talent only she possessed. Her most secret magic. 

His soft murmurs turned to whimpers that broke into moans pulling her from her thoughts. The most powerful Wizard in England, perhaps the world, suffered from nightmares. Since a child he was always most vulnerable in his sleep a weakness that followed him into adulthood. 

Crawling across the bed to him, she kissed his bareback and rubbed his shoulders. Hermione marveled as his moans slowly dissipated and he returned to a peaceful sleep. 

Tonight he had ended lives, adding to the growing list of victims to his wand. Harry was fighting for justice in an unjust world, an ugly world. Hermione’s logical mind long concluded that any form of justice would have to be just as ugly and thinking of the state of the muggle shop earlier, it definitely was. 

She knew she had to tell him soon, that their once wild fantasy was going to become a sobering reality a lot sooner than they had ever imagined. 

Tracing his legendary scar with her finger she thought to herself, he can’t die, she wouldn’t let him. 

His green eyes shot open and for a second she saw the look in his eyes, the one she first saw all those years ago when he jumped on the back of a troll to save her life. 

Hermione didn’t get a chance to ask him what was wrong before Harry grabbed her.

As Harry rolled on top of her, she caught a glimpse of the flames. 

It was as if the sun had fallen and landed right in her bedroom, and suddenly their world was on fire. 

“Just look at me, Hermione, eyes on me” he said in a calm voice that soothed her almost distracting her from everything that was going on around them. 

She felt the tremendous heat and Harry’s cheeks were glowing from an unnatural brightness.  
But Hermione listened, it was hard, she was tempted to look and see what was happening but she didn’t give in instead she tried her best to focus on his eyes.

Green and open, alive, alive in a way she hadn’t seen since they were young. 

Looking down at her, Harry smiled before closing his eyes as if he were concentrating. Hermione knew he was using a spell, something unspoken that had covered them in an invisible cocoon, shielding them from the hell that had taken over what only seconds ago was her apartment. 

Harry’s eyes opened again and he began to speak under his breath, another spell, something she was sure could be found in one of her books, old magic. 

The fire which had engulfed the room was sucked out just as quickly as it came. The immense light it had caused went out all at once and what had been practically day had now returned to night.

The heat that had made Hermione feel as if she was in her mother’s oven was gone, and in its place was an icy chill. 

Harry rolled off her and Hermione finally got a chance to see what had happened. 

The room, her apartment, and the building itself had been completely destroyed. The chill and the darkness had come from the night as whatever it was had left them now outside and exposed to the world.  
.  
She saw Harry stand and wordlessly summon their wands which had somehow not burned to bits. He then extended his hand to her, and helped her to her feet.

Once standing, Hermione was able to take in all that had happened.Everything was gone, all of her possessions, things she’d owned since she was a girl had all turned to ash and now blanketed the floor like snow. Her books, her clothes, even her precious cats, just gone. 

All that remained was the bed that they had made love in not even an hour ago, the mattress shielded by whatever feat of magic Harry had used to save them. 

Emotion attempted to consume her, anger and sadness nibbled at the edges of her mind but within seconds she came to her senses. She was Hermione Granger, and she had been through all manner of horror before, this pain was nothing but an old enemy returning to torment her once again. 

Summoning her rational mind, she started to assess the situation, asking herself questions such as what really just happened, what was the extent of the damage, what was the true cause? 

Like a muggle computer, her mind cycled through the possibilities carefully processing each one before ruling it out. It didn't take her very long, merlin knows she had been doing this kind of grim work her whole life, soon she had determined that it was no curse, the damage was surgical, this was destruction by design. 

Hermione crouched low to the ground and saw that the fire had burnt its way down through the foundation of the building and underneath the layer of ash was dirt. 

Using her hands, she carefully collected some of the ash then spreading across her fingers she inspected thoroughly. To the muggle eye it was just ash mixed in with blackened soil, but she knew better, she could not only see the residue but smell it. 

“Bastard” Hermione whispered to herself.  
To the brightest witch of her age, it was obvious, the explosion was caused by a deadly combination of potions, a brew that had been meant to wipe her out quickly and efficiently. 

There was only one potion master with enough skill to create such a formula, and his identity was no secret. 

Draco weasel fuck Malfoy, publicly the current head of magical law enforcement, secretly the current dark lord and head of pure blood terrorism in England. 

Hermione seethed at the revelation, Malfoy was untouchable, hiding in plain sight behind his minister of magic and that sham governmental body known as the Wizengamot. Even if she got the evidence needed to convict him of this and his many other crimes, there was no one to judge him, much less exact any sort of punishment. 

She then felt the weight and softness of a thick black robe that had been placed upon her shoulders. Looking past her fingers to her still bare feet, she felt momentarily embarrassed, Hermione had been so engrossed in her thoughts she had forgotten she was still naked.

Turning her head, Hermione saw Harry smiling at her, then he conjured a similar robe for himself. 

A smiling Harry Potter, she felt odd, of all the things that had occurred, this was by far the strangest and most unexpected. It was as if the bomb going off had awakened something in him, a feeling that brought him some twisted sense of happiness. 

Necessity, Hermione thought, he was needed again.


	4. Does He Know?

The cracks began to sound off as emergency wizards and witches appeared. Hermione may have lived in a muggle neighborhood but as an unspeakable her place of residence was connected to the Ministry. 

The first to arrive was her partner Neville, who looked as if had not yet been home since she left him back at the crime scene.

“Hermione, thank Merlin,” He yelled, as soon he appeared on the street that once faced her apartment building. 

He waded through the ash and gave his partner a hug. Like their days back in Hogwarts, Neville did not have many friends and in the years since their partnership he had grown to see Hermione as the sister he never had.

Once assured that Hermione was alright, he then turned to Harry. 

Harry had been standing next to Hermione but had his back to her allowing her the privacy to work. With a cigarette in hand he had assumed the position of guard, watching the area for any potential danger. 

Hermione watched as Harry turned to face her partner. Neville had taken his wand out and gripped it like a sword, his eyes talking for him. It was as if they were fifteen again and Neville back in Dumbledore’s Army waiting for orders. 

“I believe she’s your boss now mate” said Harry, using his head to motion to Hermione. 

Neville nodded and still just as determined turned back to Hermione. 

“Right, I need samples now, it is a fool’s errand but a worthy one, we must at least try and prove a connection to the wizard we all know is responsible,”  
Hermione was at home taking the lead. 

The muggle containment team which had arrived shortly after Neville had started to knock on the doors of the homes of Hermione’s now deeply shaken neighbors. A medical team had also arrived but were hesitant to move from the street. 

The medical team stood huddled together unsure of what to do next.

Harry being thee Harry Potter, all but one of the team felt qualified to even treat him and junior unspeakable Granger had a reputation not to be trifled with even in extreme circumstances such as this. 

Determined to send them away, Hermione started to speak but instead heard Harry’s voice.  
“I know your okay, but please let them check you,”

Hermione was going to tell him something, something about how she is perfectly capable of checking herself, but the thought of her condition stopped her. 

A brave witch seemingly glided through the ash to Hermione and removed the hood from her robe to reveal her identity as Luna or the now highly praised Dr. Lovegood. 

Many in the magical world thought Dr. Lovegood’s methods were unorthodox but few could contest their validity. When the news of an attack at the residence of junior unspeakable Granger, she knew she was the only med witch that Hermione would allow to treat her.

It had been sometime since the two had spoken, despite being friends during their school years, adulthood had brought about its own slew of complications namely Luna’s sometimes intimate relationship with Hermione’s estranged husband. 

Nevertheless, Hermione allowed herself to endure the awkwardness of letting Luna look her over. 

Leading her to the street and away from her demolished home, Luna conjured a medical tent and performed the necessary spells. 

Thanking Merlin, Luna was happy to find nothing was physically wrong with her old friend, but she did manage to discover something quite interesting. Forgetting her professionalism, she couldn’t help but ask.  
“Does he know?”

Luna smiled, Hermione at first did not hear her question nor had she really heard anything her old friend was saying over the last five minutes. 

The question took a moment to set in but it eventually reached the front of Hermione’s mind.  
“What, uh, no he doesn’t”

For the first time tonight, Hermione was scared, never before had she dared to talk to anyone about it, accepting her own silliness she worried talking about it would only make it more real.

“It’s Harry’s right”  
This question was half rhetorical but Luna felt the need to ask it anyway.

“Of course, it's not like it’d be Ronald's”  
Hermione said, slightly offended by the question. 

Luna looked queasy for a moment and tried to hide it. The mention of Hermione’s husband suddenly reminded her of the circumstances that led to the awkwardness that they were now shrouded in. 

Sensing Luna’s unease, Hermione spoke warmly, much warmer then she was used to speaking with people other than Harry.  
“Luna, you can relax if my, condition, is anything, it is evidence that I do not care what you or Ronald do,” 

Luna and Hermione both looked over at Harry who, now smoking a fresh cigarette had not left his post as the unofficial guard of the rubble that was once Hermione's apartment building. 

“As you can see, I have had my own pursuits for sometime now, and as you have pointed out, that pursuit is about to become somewhat more evolved,”  
Hermione spoke cautiously, each word making her feel more at home with her new found state of being. 

Another crack was heard, its noise alarmed the wizards witches who feared it might have been another attack.

Harry in one fluid motion pulled his wand and pointed it at the person who had just arrived, but seeing the red hair and unbalanced stance of his partner he lowered it. 

Still trying to find his footing from his apparition, Ron quickly inspected the scene, his eyes landing on Harry then moving to Hermione and for a moment stopped at Luna before rapidly returning back to Harry. 

“What are you doing here”  
Ron knew the answer, but his pride made him ask the question, every word dripping with accusation.

Harry returned to his occupation as guard had decided best to ignore his partner, he was clearly drunk as evidenced by his slurred words and difficulty standing. 

Hermione had hoped her husband would have had enough sense to ignore the situation, his presence now forcing her to take action.  
“You know what he is doing here Ronald, your not that stupid”

Ron didn’t bother to look her way instead choosing to walk towards Harry bringing him face to face with his partner who now discarding his cigarette accepted that he could no longer ignore him. 

The look on Harry’s face, the smile that suddenly appeared with the explosion had disappeared and his normal withdrawn and depressed expression had returned, and Hermione hated her husband for being the cause of it. 

“You think you can just shag my wife anytime you feel like Potter”  
The redhead finished his words with a punch followed by several others.

Like he deserved it Harry let his partner have at him. The punches slowly bloodying Harry’s face as the skin of Ron’s knuckles broke against his partner’s cheeks and nose.The beating forced Harry down to his knees, looking up at his partner, he gave Ron a cold and emotionless stare.

Ron wanted a reaction, he wanted something, anything that would satisfy the anger from his wounded ego.

Reaching for his wand, he hesitated, unable to point it at Harry.

Then he felt Harry’s hand grip his wrist tightly, nearly cutting off the flow of blood. To his shock, Harry raised Ron’s wand for him and pointed it at his forehead, his eyes still staring at Ron almost pleading for him to strike. 

Stunned, on the inside Ron was begging for something to take him out of the position he put himself in.

“Expelliarmus”  
The curse sent Ron flying through the air and into the street. 

All the wizards and witches of the medical and muggle containment teams that had stopped their tasks to watch the scene quickly turned their attention to Hermione who still had her wand pointed at Ron after her attack. 

From the pavement, Ron looked up at his wife, almost thanking her for rescuing him from the predicament. 

The hard landing on black asphalt had forced Ron back to his senses, even in his rage he couldn’t do it, he never wanted to really hurt Harry. He felt seventeen again, shocked by the truth of his best friend’s relationship and unable to express his embarrassment at his insecurities. 

Ron didn’t want to do any of this, he did not come here to fight, as usual his wife was right he wasn’t that stupid. He knew what her and Harry were up to, he knew more than anyone else of their activities.

It was his pride that turned him into a drunken beast, a monster with contempt for the ones he was once closest too.

Truthfully he just needed to see that they were alright even if it meant seeing them together, and he did that. 

After having thoroughly losing his dignity, Ron resolved himself to leave and take his shame with him. And with a crack, he was gone.


	5. This End's Tonight

Hermione wiped the dust off the table at grimmauld place. It must have been years since someone stayed here, perhaps Ginny back when she was still Miss Potter.The thought made Hermione cringe, her sister-in- law had been remarried twice since then but the thought still riled her up. She swore God must have made Weasley’s to punish her. 

Taking a seat at the long table that they had shared many meals on during the war, she looked over at Harry in the kitchen. She could still remember Molly Weasley doing her best to make that kitchen function right despite it suffering from old age and a house elf that would never leave it be. 

Now it was Harry’s and despite having not used it in possibly years, he worked it comfortably. Without the use of a wand, he had made tea, using pure magic to boil the water and make it brew. Within seconds she had to quickly advert her eyes as he walked in, with everything they had been through, she still blushed at the thought of him catching her stare. 

Handing her a cup of tea she took a warm sip and felt it sooth her from an extremely intense night. 

The one good thing about being an unspeakable and an auror, they were their own authority when it came to crime scenes. Hermione knew the scene being her now destroyed home may have been a conflict of interest but anyone who had enough power within the ministry to make that an issue had been suspiciously absent. 

To Harry and her it had been obvious, even Neville and Luna knew. The Minister and his cronies were either in on the attack itself or knew well enough to turn a blind eye to it. Perhaps Stimpleton was stewing as they speak, angry at the botched attempt on her life. 

After her muggle neighbors were properly obliviated, the crime scene slowly emptied until it was just Hermione, Harry, Neville, and Luna. Hermione then sent Neville back to the ministry with the samples, and advised him to get as much rest as possible. The following morning, she had told him would be extremely strenuous as they were going to use every resource available to try and get some sort of damning evidence to connect the bombing to its author. She didn’t say anything when Luna chose to take her leave with Neville, but she could feel Harry smiling at the former D.A members. Before they had appareted, Luna mouthed the words, you should tell him. 

Hermione shuddered at the memory, a part of her wanted to be happy about her predicament but now sitting in at the former Black home the reality of her changing life was setting in in the most dreadful way possible. 

Harry hated grimmauld place, he even hesitated to walk in after opening the door. She had to take the first step. They had been there just under an hour and hadn’t moved beyond the kitchen and the dining room. To Harry the house was haunted by the ghosts of the first war and the ever present memory of his Godfather, a memory that all too often made him wonder what life would have been like if the man hadn’t been killed. 

Hermione knew Harry, as a best friend, as a lover, she knew the man who sat before her with his eyes seemingly looking through his tea cup into some unknown abyss beyond the table. 

Harry was going to do something, probably something stupid that might actually get him killed this time. It was clear to her, the attempt on her life was a violation, a step over a line that he struggled daily to abide by. 

The culprit behind the bombing was no mystery, but it didn’t matter because there was no proof, nothing to connect that snake to the crime. That's how he escaped Harry’s justice, always hiding behind a shield of plausible deniability combined with a number of loyal purebloods who would sooner face a dementor's kiss then betray him. 

Hermione knew had to tell him, maybe if she did then he would stop thinking whatever insane thoughts that were assuredly going through his mind right now.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione reached across the table, took Harry’s hands in her own, and told him something else.  
“I’m divorcing Ron”

This was old news and they both knew it. She had wanted to divorce Ron since before they were married. She didn’t because of the pressure, a muggle born divorcing a pure blood would equal career suicide. Hermione loved being a witch and despite its many problems her work was important to her. 

So she stayed, held hostage by the prejudice of her magical world. Then when Harry returned, Hermione had took it to mean a second chance, after years of teaching at Hogwarts, she was willing to throw it all away even going as far as to consider restarting her life in the muggle world. He stopped her, he didn’t want to be the reason she lost everything she worked so hard for. 

In those early days they would lay in bed still high from their love and he would remind her that no piece of paperwork or jewelry was going to change anything between them. So she let it go, staying unhappily married she opted to change jobs, figuring work at the ministry would at least bring her closer to Harry. She no longer needed to hide herself away from her husband at the castle. 

Her words waking him from his trance like state, Harry spoke up but she didn’t let him finish.  
“Hermione, you”

“I can and I will, I am sick of this, I want to live the life I’ve always wanted and not in secret”

Harry's eyes left his tea cup and now focused on her.

“Now I am telling you I am divorcing Ron and as soon as you get around to asking, things will finally be as they should be”  
Hermione smiled, feeling the hope in her words. 

To her surprise, Harry got up from the table and left the room. Now she was chasing after him but she lost sight of him as he moved quickly down a long hallway. 

She heard a door slam ahead of her and she knew she was out of options.

Knocking at the door in front of her, Hermione felt no give in it, it was shut and something told her it was going to stay that way. 

So she did the only thing she could do, she spoke trying her best to push her voice through the wooden barrier in front of her.

“Harry, there is, uh, something you must know”  
Hermione tried her best to keep speaking, forcing every word from her mouth by the syllable.

“Well, a couple of months ago, you see, I felt quite a bit queasy, you remember that bout of the flu I suffered, it really wasn’t the fish at all, you see, well, and look I heard from Susan, you know from the office, and I”  
She stopped, summoning her Gryffindor courage she decided to just let it out.

“Oh Merlin, Harry I’m P”  
But she couldn’t finish the word. Not because she didn’t want to or her strength had left her, instead reality set in. 

“Alohomora”  
She whispered pointing her wand at the door knob.

The door swung open and her reality was confirmed. The room was empty and Harry was gone.  
\-----  
Harry stood outside a grotesque mansion surrounded by fields all blackened by the night. 

He was done, live or die this game he had been playing since his return was to end tonight. With that thought he proceeded up what felt like a flight of stairs to a front door so large it rivaled Hogwarts.

The door was engraved with snakes and emblems that were beyond Harry’s knowledge. He knew if he had taken Hermione with him she would be able to read the door like a page in one of her books, giving him the name and history of every symbol. Harry guessed whatever they were they were probably be related to pure blooded wizardry or dark magic. He didn’t dwell on it for too long, whatever they were they weren’t going to be around much longer.

Extending his arm, Harry placed his palm to the door and whispered  
“Reducto”

At once the door exploded inward into the mansion, splitting into hundreds of splinters. 

Walking in, Harry stepped over the remnants of the door and noticed the front parlor of the mansion was elegant or maybe luxurious, Harry knew nothing about style but he knew his ex wife would have loved the place. 

Standing in momentary darkness, Harry prepared to use a spell when dozens of candles all lit at once illuminating the mansion's interior enough for Harry to see he was outnumbered. Dark wizards and witches were all crowded around him each giving him wicked smiles from every side of the room including along two stairways that together led to a second floor that was open facing the entrance.

“I’m surprised to see you Potter”  
Harry looked up to the second floor and saw blonde hair and a pale face staring back at him.

“Do you got a warrant, oh wait you wouldn’t because then I’d have been the one to have to sign off on that now wouldn’t I”  
In the decade since they’d met, Harry almost marveled at his ability to never stop talking. 

“Thought you would be satisfied with those idiots I fed you earlier, I heard you really did a number on them in that shop, nasty stuff really, and they say I’m bad, but I’m guessing they weren’t enough for you Potter, not to quench your thirst for blood,”  
Harry’s lack of response started to frustrate him, so he kept up his taunting.

“Nothing to say to Potter, well then what's your purpose, why have you intruded on me and my friends, you know that door was two hundred years old, perhaps you ought to convince me now not to have you arrested for trespassing and wanton destruction of private property,”.  
The only answer Draco Malfoy received was the sound of Harry’s lighter as he lit a cigarette. 

The sweet smell of Merlin’s taking over the room, making several of the dark wizards and witches cough from the smoke. 

Draco kept on talking but Harry had stopped listening. He was enjoying his Merlin cigarette as if it was the last one he will ever have. 

As soon as he tasted the last of the tobacco, he let the cigarette slip from his mouth. The room watched it fall as if it was some type of sign. 

When the cigarette bud hit the ground, Harry smiled and felt his wand slide down his forearm and into his hand. 

Draco yelled something and his minions reluctantly listened. They attacked Harry and every window of the mansion began to glow several colors each causing the building to shake harder then the last.


	6. Bloody Hell

Ron watched the magically enlarged breasts of the women in front of him bounce in every direction as she rode him. 

Tonight Ron scared himself which was something he wasn’t used to. After the war he thought he had seen it all but watching his best friend seemingly beg for death shook him to his core. 

Since then he had done everything he could to forget it, including this beautiful witch from the cauldron shop at Diagon Alley. But nothing helped, his mind kept going back to that dark place.

His whole life he struggled with his own sense of self, the lesser brother, the lesser gryffindor, it was if he was born with a sign that said not good enough. Like trying to escape a curse, he did everything he could to change it, but instead he always came up short. 

Taking his eyes off the witch bouncing in front of him, he looked at the empty bottle on the table. His reflection staring back at him telling him what a fool he was. 

Hermione was right, as always, he wasn’t stupid, he knew he was his own curse, that the only person that was telling him he was lesser was himself. 

Reaching for the bottle at his side he took another swing. 

Ron knew he realized it too late, he had already made so many mistakes and hurt so many of the people who loved him all in his war with a stigma that never existed anywhere but in his mind.

That was why he drank and shagged women who didn’t care for him. All they did was call him a hero, a star, telling him everything he loved to hear and all the liquor did was help him believe them. 

He thought of his wife, she filled him with the most regret. She used him as a pawn to win her king and he let her. 

He always knew she didn’t love him, that he was a tool, and he went along with it anyway. A petty shot at topping the boy who lived, and what did it do. They still found each other and here he was with this witch. 

Taking another swig, Ron smiled, everyone thought he had given up on life. Retiring early from the quidditch league, joining the auror corp, agreeing to be Harry’s partner and following him on his death wishes called missions. 

The drink and the women, all of it made his mum frown whenever he visited, but truthfully this wasn’t giving up on life it was living it. Regret, self loathing he couldn’t escape it if he tried, but he could still have a bloody good time. And with that thought he positioned himself mouth open below those magnificent magical breasts and poured what was left of the bottle all over them. 

The phone rang, and Ron’s night was once again interrupted. He had developed a special fancy for muggle women and thanks to his wife he learned how to operate a muggle telly phone. 

“Whats that baby” the witch asked mid bounce.

“Err its a phone” said Ron as he started reaching around for it, not wanting to stop her mid stride.

“Mmmm and what its do baby” 

Bullocks, Ron was going to let it ring, he really didn’t want to explain muggle technology to a magical, it reminded him too much of his father. 

But to his dismay the phone would not stop ringing, it must have rang at least five times each time driving him even more mad then the last. 

By the sixth ring he had enough, he gently lifted the witch off him and picked up the phone.

“Oi what the fuck”  
Ron had run out of patience three rings ago.

“Don’t you what the fuck me Ronald Weasley,”  
The sound of his wife’s voice killed his mood mentally, emotionally, and at this moment worst of all physically.  
\------

The last of Malfoy’s minions laid in front of Harry still burning. It hadn’t taken him long to defeat them no matter how outnumbered he was. 

They attacked him with everything they had and much to his disappointment it wasn’t much, sure they got in a few hits but nothing he couldn't shake off.

Draco had been watching the whole time from atop the second floor overlooking the massacre, doing his best to not let his nervousness show. 

He wasn’t a Voldemort or Grindelwald, his expertise did not come from raw magical ability, Draco learned that at Hogwarts. Looking at his chest, he thought of the scars he still bore from his last duel with Harry. 

His arrogance only let his anxiety go so far, watching Harry split heads and break backs he reminded himself he never intended for his minions to defeat Harry. Just tire him and give Malfoy the time he needed. He had already sent word to the ministry and if they didn’t arrive in time to stop Harry then he still had one more trick up his sleeve. 

The screams of his last minion’s flaming end finally died down. Thomas Goots, a proud pure blood and a fool. Draco hated to admit it but you had to be a fool to challenge Potter in a fair duel. 

“All done scarhead”

Harry didn’t bother looking up at Draco. He was too focused on his uncooperative lighter feeling slightly embarrassed as it failed him in front of his long time rival. 

A chuckle from the blonde headed dark wizard made Harry finally give up, there was an easier way to light his much needed cigarette. Taking it in hand he put it to the still burning dark wizard in front him, giving it a second, the cigarette caught fire and at last he felt the gritty satisfaction of his drag. 

Draco felt offended by Harry’s attitude, no matter how powerful Harry was, no one had the right to be that comfortable when facing him. Reaching into his robes he felt two vials. He had been debating all night about which one to take. Which one would give him a chance at surviving a duel with the boy who lived. 

Looking down at Harry, watching him take another drag with an impatient look on his face, Draco made a decision. He didn’t just want to survive a fight with Harry, he wanted to beat him, he wanted to kill him.  
Taking both vials out of his coat, he locked eyes with Harry and smiled.

“To your death scarhead” Draco said, raising the vials to Harry as if he were giving him a toast.  
Then, as the cigarette hung from Harry’s mouth still burning, Draco drank both vials with a sickening grin. 

Draco’s body started to shake violently and the mansion became filled with the sounds of his bones violently breaking and resetting themselves. His hands grew three times in size and his fingertips split as long sharp claws burst through the open flesh. His feet too became clawed, his once expensive loafers falling to pieces.

Harry just watched Draco transform, puffing away at his cigarette. 

The cracking of Draco’s bones was joined by his screams, unable to hold it in any longer as his skin peeled back exposing a thick rhino-like hide. For a moment he hunched over unable to straighten himself when two giant wings emerged from his back allowing him to take flight. 

Landing in front of Harry, he now towered above him having gained at least four four feet in height. 

Looking down at Harry, Draco smiled from his now elongated face with two rows of razor sharp teeth. 

“Shit” was all Harry had a chance to say before Draco took a swipe at him, the force launching him across the room. 

Harry pointed his wand and launched several curses each one either having no effect or bouncing off Draco completely. 

Before Harry could get a way Draco jumped on top of him pinning him to the ground with his claws. Ready to bite Harry’s head off, a voice interrupted them.

“Bloody Hell”  
Both Harry and Draco looked to see a shocked Ron Weasley, still standing at the entrance to the mansion. 

The interruption was all the time Harry needed, he let off a quick reducto that luckily was able to send Draco flying back into the wall across the room.

“Get out of here Ron”  
Ron looked at Harry, tempted to listen but knowing he had to stay.

Draco had already recovered and was back in Harry’s face. Despite his large size, Draco moved quickly with the help of his wings. Rabidly swiping at Harry, but he couldn’t seem to connect.

Using his quidditch reflexes with the help of years of fighting, Harry had managed to figure a rhythm to Draco’s attacks and was just barely able to keep himself one step ahead.

Planning his movements, he ducked allowing Draco’s right claw to become stuck in the wooden wall behind them.

“Ron get going and make sure no one interrupts” yelled Harry.

Finally listening to Harry, Ron nodded his head and like the eleven year old he once was facing Fluffy, he turned around and bolted back outside.


	7. The Day Draco's Reign Began

Outside Ron saw the aurors arrive with Minister Stimpleton at the lead. 

“Weasley move out of the way, we know what your partner is up to”

Minster Stimpleton was already making his way towards the entrance, but Ron blocked him.

“I wouldn’t go in if I were you sir, their quite busy”

Ron knew the minister wouldn’t listen but if Harry needed him to stop anyone from interrupting then that included the minister of magic. 

“Get your muggle loving ass out of the way Weasley, we know what your partner is doing in there,”

“I really think you don’t”

Ron followed up his response with a slightly drunken chuckle  
.  
“Potter is assaulting a respected and beloved member of our society, now move out of the way or I will have you arrested,”  
Trying to intimidate Ron, the minister’s face closed in on Ron’s as if he could physically overpower him.

“Arrest me then”  
Ron smiled and then unleashed a drunken belch into the minister’s face causing him to stumble backwards. 

Taking out his wand, Ron stared down the minister’s aurors.

“Are you sure you want to do this boys?”

Ron’s question caused the aurors to look at each other uncomfortably. Ronald Weasley was a feared auror who had survived even the most sucidal of missions alongside Harry Potter. 

“No”  
One of the aurors said, before taking out his wand with the other aurors following suit with their own.

The tip of Ron’s wand started to glow.

“Alright, well have it your way then”  
He then charged the minister’s aurors, screaming a host of curses.  
\------  
Inside the rapidly deteriorating mansion , Harry was running out of options. Most curses wouldn’t penetrate Draco’s thick skin and reducto worked but not well enough to kill him. The only thing Harry could do is try and wait out Draco’s potion, if he could survive long enough maybe the potion will wear off. This plan was flawed and Harry knew it. He wasn’t worried that Draco would catch him or kill him, as fast as Draco was he was still quick enough to dodge him. 

The problem was outside, what if Draco attacked Ron or went on some kind of killing spree. Harry needed to keep Draco’s attention but it was only a matter of time before something took his attention away.

“Minister you must stop this”  
And there it is, her voice finding its way to Harry’s ears even over all the commotion of the fight.

Hermione had arrived to find Ron on the floor subdued by the aurors. It took all five of the Stimpleton's aurors to stop the rampaging redhead but even with the odds against him, he had managed to break two legs, three arms, and a wrist. In petty revenge the aurors had removed the bones from Ron’s arms and legs and were now kicking him around like a muggle ball.

The minister was in the middle of calling in backup when Hermione ran up to him without any regard for his position or her future career. 

As fast as she could she explained the evidence linking Draco to the bombing at her home earlier. She omitted the laws she had to break to get the information but she hoped Draco’s obvious guilt would make the minister overlook her methods. 

To her dismay, the minister started to laugh in her face as if she had been telling him one excruciatingly long and detailed joke. 

Sounds of the battle going inside made Hermione frantic, she had to do something but with Ron on the floor she was alone.  
\------  
Harry smiled as he heard her long winded explanation, true to the Hermione he knew and loved, she was able to come through for him in the end, even if she never really had a chance. 

The thought of her having a chance sobered him faster than the incoming blow from Draco. If Draco decided to leave Harry and head outside, what chance would she have then. Harry at this point wasn’t sure he could get to her in time and even if he did, he couldn’t fight Draco and watch out for Hermione at the same time. 

His thoughts distracted him for a second too long and Draco finally landed a swipe cutting Harry across the chest leaving bloody claws marks when his shirt had once been. 

Falling to his knees he looked up at Draco and watched as for a moment he transformed back to his human form.

“Don’t get too happy Potter, I have perfect control over this form, I choose when I want and how I want to transform” 

Harry spit blood at Draco’s feet, breaking up the blonde wizards gloating.

Transforming back, Draco charged Harry once more but missed as Harry rolled out of the way. Sending another reducto Draco was again knocked back but as always quickly recovered. 

Thinking to himself, Harry knew Draco wouldn’t leave his form until he had killed him. Then it hit him, he knew what he had to do.

He let Draco continue to swipe at him until finally a blow connected. This one instead of cutting across his chest, it pierced right into it. Harry coughed blood and his face became filled with agony. A second claw entered Harry’s side and with both claws inside Harry’s chest Draco lifted him into the air. 

Smiling with both rows of teeth, he bit down into Harry’s shoulder and buried his teeth so deep they were touching end to end inside of Harry's torso. After he was sure the Wizard’s green eyes had gone dim, Draco tossed Harry through several walls and watched as part of the mansion fell in on him. 

Draco stood with blood leaking its way through the spaces between his saw like teeth, his claws at his side dripping with even more of Harry’s blood. He waited for Harry to come back but nothing happened. Minutes went by and no sign of movement came from the heap of rubble he left Harry in. 

He did, he defeated the boy who lived turning him forever into the man who died. Draco had never felt more proud in his life, he had finally redeemed the Malfoy name. 

Transforming back into his human form he looked at his reflection in one of the many shards of glass that had littered the floor from the fight. Seeing his blonde hair and pure blood features he told himself he was looking at the face of the next Dark Lord. 

Minister Stimpleton was weak and a fool, with Potter gone, he will overthrow him and reign supreme over the magical world. He was finally going to achieve Salazaar’s dream and create a magical world devoid of mudbloods and when their numbers were up finally declare war on the filthy muggles. 

Walking towards the archway that had once held the front door, before stepping through, he took a deep breath.

“Draco,” he said to himself.  
“Your reign begins today” 

Taking the final steps outside, he stood firmly as he faced the crowd that had amassed in front of his once picturesque mansion. 

There were aurors, that mudblood granger, the blood traitor weasley, the Minister, and even the daily prophet. A photo snapped of Draco and everyone turned to look at the proud victor. 

The aurors were shocked, they were sure Potter would have killed him. The minister was relieved, if Draco was alive then his position was secure. Ron cursed and loudly vowed revenge. 

Hermione stood mouth open, she wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to curse, and she wanted to fight. Wanting to do all those things at once had stopped her from doing anything. So she just stood there, stuck unable to comprehend the sight in front of her. 

Draco opened his mouth ready to give his first proclamation. Then he exploded. 

Blood, bone, and all the other pieces that makeup a human were suddenly scattered all over the front of the Malfoy mansion.

In Draco’s place all was left was a man shaped red mist until the wind took it away like a cloud.

Standing at the entrance just behind where Draco once stood was Harry, wand in hand and a cigarette barely hanging from his bottom lip. 

Harry could hardly stand but he managed to limp his way outside. 

The strength came back to Hermione’s legs and she ran up to Harry pulling him into a tight hug.  
The hug hurt, it put pressure on Harry’s many wounds but he didn’t care. 

Looking over her shoulder, Harry saw Ron staring up at them from the ground. He muttered some words and the bones returned back to Ron’s arms and legs.The sudden regrowth of his bones made Ron yelp in pain but he appreciated it all the same. 

The moment ended just as quickly as it started.

“Arrest Potter for murder”  
Minster Stimpleton’s voice filled with the same disdain as always, but to his surprise nothing happened.

Several cracks were heard and when the minster turned his entourage of aurors had fled. 

Harry with the help of Hermione made his way to the minister.

“Potter you are a”  
Minster Stimpleton was interrupted this time by Harry himself. 

“I am Harry Potter”  
Harry said firmly as his eyes bore their way into the minister's forehead. 

Before the minister could react he exploded, covering the reporters from the daily prophet in blood.

“Auror Potter, you, you, you just assassinated the minister of magic.” yelled one of the reporters, finally regaining their composure. 

Before Harry could even react to the question, Hermione had already maneuvered herself in between him and the reporter.  
“Auror Potter’s actions were justified, as you all will see in the official report unspeakable Longbottom is filing with the wizengamot at this very moment, the unspeakables have evidence of wide spread corruption within the ministry itself. I, unspeakable Hermione Granger, took it upon myself to assign Aurors Potter and Weasley to perform an operation to arrest Draco Malfoy. As you all have witnessed, Malfoy resisted arrest, broke several laws, and was killed in self defense by Auror Potter. Minister Stimpleton then attempted to use his position and his cronies to cover up the investigation. I will admit Auror Potter’s method were a little crude, but given the extreme nature of the case, were necessary,”

Hermione’s words were like iron and the reporters rather than dispute her, allowed their magical quills to take down her quote. 

Harry and Ron shrugged at each other, the bossy know it all they had grown up with was back and from the tone of her voice, she was now in charge. 

One of the reporters attempted to speak directly to Harry but the only answer he could get was a wink. A wink, which caused him and the other reporters to instantly apparate back to the offices of the daily prophet.

Hermione and Ron marveled at Harry’s use of wandless and wordless magic, but having just witnessed their friend explode two people with the power of his magic, they couldn’t say they were surprised. 

Turning around, Harry came face to face with his partner. 

“So, about everything, you know uh”

Ron was never good at apologies, Harry learned that their fourth year. 

“Hold out your hand Ron”

“Are we supposed to shake hands”

“I said hold out your hand mate”

Ron looked nervous, wondering if Harry was going to shake it or remove it.

Closing his eyes Ron awaited his fate.

Something slammed into his hand, he wrapped his fingers around it and he immediately recognized the shape. It was a bottle, a rather large one at that. Opening his eyes his drunken smile returned to him.

“This is over a hundred years old”  
Ron knew this could only have come from whatever remained of Malfoy’s wine cellar. 

“You should enjoy it then”  
Harry then started walking with Hermione at his side.

Finally ready to tell him, she locked her brown eyes with his green ones.

“Harry, I’m”

Harry raised his hand, the gesture stopping her confession. He then placed it softly on her belly.

“Hermione, I know”

“You what!”

And with a crack of their own, they were gone.


End file.
